You Make The Sound of Pulling Heaven Down
by ooliblikas
Summary: "That he's a queer." She whispers it, as if the word 'queer' has the ability to initiate Armageddon itself, and for Roxas, maybe it does, "You don't want people thinking you're a queer, too, do you?" It's not so much a question as it is a silent threat. The answer is on the tip of his tongue, but it never quite comes out.


**AUTHORS NOTE: This will be a _very_ short multi-fic that uses snap-shot moments to illustrate a 'coming of age' love story between Axel and Roxas. This has religious overtones mixed with both internalized and external homophobia.**

* * *

 **JEREMIAH 29:11**

Axel is dressed in his Sunday best, hair tamed back into a respectable pony-tail and eye-brow piercing covered with a band-aid as per his mother's request. He sits in a suffocating heat that has him dragging open-palms up his thighs to wipe off excess sweat on his slacks. In front of him is a church congregation that speaks somewhere between hell-fire with eternal damnation and salvation. At his right, his mother gently elbows him in the side where she smiles at him in modest appraisal.

It's a silent show of gratitude, Axel realizes. They'd only recently moved from the fast-paced living in Boston, Massachusetts to the small-town shrinkage of Wilmington, Arkansas. With a population skirting just around eight-hundred, everyone knew everyone, and everyone went to church. And while Axel's mother had never subscribed to a religion before, she couldn't reject the invitation to church from polite neighbors. However, when she showed up to church the first few Sunday's without Axel, people started asking questions until she buckled under peer-pressure and begged Axel to attend church for the sake of saving face.

Thus, with an elongated sigh, Axel reaches out to pluck a bible out from behind the pew in front of him. His fingers smooth over the worn-out and cracking leather, fingers absent-mindedly tracing the 'Holy Bible' engraving on the cover before he finally opens it. It didn't exactly matter where he landed as all of the text blurred together and made his vision swim until he had to fight back an oppressing yawn. Still, he pretends to be saved by the divines up until he glances up and notices someone staring at him.

Axel recognizes the blonde adolescent, Roxas, through shared classes. With a new town came a new school and transferring from a high school with an average graduating class of two-thousand to a school that considered anything over a hundred to be 'large' was an adjustment that Axel hadn't quite grasped. His peers had the overwhelming advantage of growing up with nearly the same student body since the dawning of time which made Axel an outcast by default. With such a small population, it didn't take much time for Axel to understand the social hierarchy. It was apparent that Roxas and his small group of friends were at the top of the sophmore class food-chain and everyone under them blurred together into a mass of teenage hormones and angst. At the very bottom of the mass was where Axel found himself. Not that people didn't talk to him, but there was a vast history that was misplaced between him and his peers.

More importantly, Roxas was birthed with the title 'preacher's son' and he was essentially a demigod. He was every parent's wet dream from his honor-roll status and ability to adhere to his nine o'clock curfew down to his title of being an all-start pitcher for the school's baseball team. And if Roxas was a wet-dream, Axel was a nightmare in the form of hair-dye stains in porcelain sinks and the habit of sticking safety-pins through gelatinous skin to create holes where none existed.

So, of course, it was only out of sheer amusement that Axel curls his upper lip into a smirk at the persistent staring. Though, to is surprise, Roxas smiles back.

* * *

 **CUISSES DE GRENOUILLE**

Fast forward four months and it's early November where the trees resemble flames with the promise of approaching winter. Axel is tying up his hair into a sloppy bun in preparation to slice open a frog in the name of Biology when a flash of sunlight passes through his peripheral vision, only to stop.

"Hey, Hayner is sick today, mind if I partner with you?" Roxas' voice is a tenor deeper than he imagined, but there's a delicate softness to the edges of it that reminds him of his mother, "I mean, assuming that you don't have a partner." The blonde's voice raises toward the end of his sentence, as if asking a question, and he catches his bottom lip on his top teeth.

Axel considers it, observing Roxas'deep navy blue sweater with a Nike logo and the way he rolls the too big sleeves up to his elbows, "Yeah, sure." He finally agrees, leaning back on his stool with an arched brow.

Once Roxas is seated, and after their teacher has reviewed laboratory procedures, Axel casts a side-ways glance over to Roxas, "I can cut if you'd prefer to write. Your hand writing is neater than mine." As he speaks, he uses his right pinky-finger to reach out and point out their lab worksheet where, in neat looping-cursive, Roxas has written his name alongside Axel's scratchy rendition of his own.

Roxas follows his gaze and laughs, a laugh like wind-chimes that has Axel smiling, "Thank god, I'm _so_ not cut-out for this sort of lab work. We had to dissect a worm freshman year and the smell had me gagging."Roxas sighs, "I can't imagine having to do a frog." To emphasis his point, he rolls his eyes skyward before smiling, and then in afterthought, "I'm Roxas, by the way. You're Axel, right? From Boston?"

Axel laughs, "Yea, I'm Axel from Boston. Nice to meet you Roxas from Wilmington." In contrast to Roxas' light-hearted tone, Axel's is dry, cutting, even. He's purposefully teasing Roxas, and the blonde starts twisting his purity ring around his finger out of anxious habit. So Axel smiles to reassure him and the tension eases.

For a moment their conversation dwindles while Axel pulls on a pair of latex gloves before opening their packaged frog on their dissection tray. It's while they're pointing out external anatomy does a brunette, Olette, turn in her stool to look at Roxas, "Are you and Hayner still coming to the party Friday?" The girl is twirling and twisting her hair around an index finger, sheepish smile on her face that indicates to Axel that she's flirting. Only, Roxas doesn't seem to notice.

"Of course!" Roxas agrees quickly and then turns to Axel, "You should come, too! It'll be fun." Roxas sing-songs the last portion of his statement and it becomes apparent to Axel that Roxas is an amalgamation of charisma and bubbly good-will, "I could show you around." Roxas persists with a smile and a tilt of his head.

Axel feels heat rising to his cheeks at the smile, saliva congealing in his throat like blood until it's akin to swallowing golf-balls. He nods slowly, stupidly, he thinks. His heart is hammering in his chest and he's not sure if it's out of social embarrassment or something more, "Sounds fun." He confirms, peeling his eyes off Roxas to focus on their amphibian friend.

* * *

 **LEARNING TO KISS WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED**

Nine months later is a Saturday afternoon and the clouds are swollen with rain that casts a shadow over their sleepy town, but Axel and Roxas are oblivious to this as they press their backs up against the headboard of Roxas' bed. Both boys are connected by a pair of headphones where Roxas has to lean into his taller companion in order to watch the music video that's currently playing on Axel's phone. At their feet lay the remains of an attempted day at finishing summer-reading packets, notebooks and novels perched precariously at the end of the bed.

While they listen to each other's music, they attempt to toss pop-corn mixed with M&Ms into each other's mouths. What had started as a bet had now divulged into childish antics. They laugh, wind-chimes mixing with rolling thunder. Several more attempts and Axel finally manages to catch a handful of pop-corn and M&Ms in his mouth, where, in a triumphant crunch, he thrusts his fists in the air and sub-sequentially pulls the headphone bud from Roxas' ear. They both crack-up in unison, leaning into each other with the pitter-patter of rain against window.

"It only took you a hundred tries." Roxas teases with an eye-roll, setting the bowl of popcorn on his night-stand where he moves to lay down next to Axel.

"Don't be such a spoiled sport." Axel mocks, laying down as well. At this, Roxas turns slightly, angling his head upward to get a look at Axel. There's the desire to banter with his friend, but all of the words fall to the wayside as they examine each other. Roxas knows that they've been here a thousand times before, where Roxas can make out the expensive Polo cologne that Axel wears mixed with something distinctly cinnamon. Where they stare at each other as if they're mapping out the infinity that makes up the universe. It's marked with racing heart-beats and the flutter of moth wings in the pit of their stomachs, but someone always turns away. Changes the conversation.

"I'm not a spoiled sport." Roxas defends, but it comes out in a voice that's barely above a gentle whisper. His response isn't robotic, but it feels distant. As if being around Axel has the ability to both slow and speed up time. Roxas quickly forgets that he's spoken at all and instead admires Axel's eyes, the color of jade mixed with flecks of gilded gold.

Roxas thinks about Olette and the way his friends insist they should date. As if they're destined to be high-school sweet hearts with the expectation of marriage and nuclear family behind white-picket fence. Olette is only a friend, though. Being with Axel is different; it's warmer and it leaves him feeling dizzy like carnival rides. To highlight his racing thoughts, Roxas reaches up with a tentative hand to brush a few strands of hair from Axel's face. They're fully facing each other now, close enough to feel heated breath against skin.

There's electricity in their interactions, pulsing currents. Axel understands this better than Roxas because he's been here before with another boy. He's nervous, but he leans over Roxas until the blond is on his back, blue-eyes flicking over his face in rapid succession. There's an unmistakable fear in the way Roxas look at him, but it's not of Axel.

So he leans down until their lips meet and their first kiss is chaste, slow and deliberate, as if dipping toes in questionable water. Beneath him, Roxas' breath hitches in his throat, humming bird heart-beat pounding in his ears until he's certain that he's gone deaf.

But then he's kissing back timidly, tremors wracking his body because he's falling for Axel in ways that he's been taught are immoral.

When the kiss is broken, Axel leans back a bit and he's afraid too, as if waiting for their friendship to crumble from the simple gesture, "Is—Is this okay?" Axel questions hesitantly and they're both awkward adolescents forming a concrete definition of 'love'and because Roxas has never seen Axel so uncertain before, he laughs. Then they're both laughing, rain battering against glass windows with a roll of thunder, but neither really notice.

"I'm scared." Roxas admits in another whisper, but he smiles through his fear. Even though he hasn't known Axel for long, there's an unmistakable feeling of "home" whenever he's with him. But he fears the concept of God because he's been told how falling in love with Axel would make him an abomination in the Lord's eyes, a heathen. He fears his parents, too, because he's witnessed them disown his cousin for the same thing.

"Me too." Axel agrees, but he's more afraid for Roxas because he knows, first hand, how kissing boys on swing sets can tear everything apart.

The thought curddles in his throat, but he swallows it because all he really wants to do is bask in the glow of their silent revelations. They kiss again, less tentative and more experimental. Their movements are slow and languid, neither pushing too hard to unravel the complexities of their blossoming relationship. When the kiss is broken, Axel presses his forehead to Roxas', smiling when the blond reaches up to cup his face and run thumb pads over his side-burns.

Then they're back to lying next to each, but now Roxas is comfortably curled into Axel's side. They don't move or talk, but instead listen to each other's soft breathing and the thunderstorm in the background.

* * *

 **LOWER YOUR EYELIDS TO DIE WITH THE SUN**

Axel waits for Roxas at the end of the street as per routine ever since Roxas' mother caught them holding hands five months ago. Roxas' parents hadn't been as angry as he imagined, but they were quick to put him into a mandatory lock-down which included taking his cell-phone and lap-top away. The only computer he was allowed to use was the family one and it was only to be used for class assignments. More importantly, his parents barred him from being friends with Axel anymore. However, none of this stopped Roxas from scaling the side of his house at nine o' clock on a Saturday night to meet Axel.

At the end of the street, Axel leans against his black pick-up truck, arm folded across his chest where he scrolls through his phone with a free hand. Most of his text messages are from Demyx who doesn't understand why Axel is always blowing him off without explanation. It's in these moments that Axel rehearses several dozen scenarios of him telling Demyx about Roxas, but each one leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Parts of him believe that Demyx is open-minded enough not to care, but the possibility of rejection polarizes his anxieties.

Axel composes a half-hearted text of explanation, but the sound of sneakers slapping against pavement breaks Axel's concentration and he smiles," Breaking out of prison, are we?" The red-head taunts, tucking his phone into his back pocket as he pushes off his truck to meet Roxas.

Roxas rolls his eyes beneath the street-light and Axel finds it a little ironic that the lamp above them halos Roxas in a glow of yellow, "I told you, you were a bad influence on me." Roxas teases, cautiously and hesitantly letting the taller boy kiss him because no one is around to see them.

"Yeah, yeah." Axel smirks, opening the passenger-side door for Roxas where he makes a gest of bowing. Roxas rolls his eyes once more as he climbs up into the vehicle, soft-laughter escaping his lips at the display of chivalry.

In Axel's car they talk sports, classmates, and life after high school. Axel talks about his desire to be a biologist and Roxas flirts with the idea of majoring in art or philosophy, but there's an undercurrent of mourning in his tone. So they change topics because Roxas' future fells predestined in ways they don't feel ready to address.

Instead they listen to music where Axel purposefully sings off key and with a level of dramatics that Roxas is accustomed to. For a while it's silly, but as they're passing their school and then church, his singing falls into his usual rasp. Axel's voice is a throaty-lull, creating goose-bumps on Roxas' arms. At some point, Axel turns the radio off and, having memorized the song, finishes it for Roxas alone.

" _You're what keeps me believing the world's not gone dead, Strength in my bones put the words in my head—"_

Roxas shakes his head, smiling sheepishly as he hides his face in his hands with a laugh. Next to him, Axel smiles at his embarrassment, his own laughter deluding his pitch, but only for a moment.

" _When they pour out to paper, it's all for you-!"_

Axel's tone pitches at the end of the lyric, dramatic flair returning and Roxas' face is flushed where he bites his bottom lip to stifle his bashful laughter.

" _'Cause that's what you do. That's what you do."_

Axel finishes the verse with a smile, hand reaching out to interlace his fingers with Roxas across the console.

They continue to drive until they've passed the 'Welcome to Wilmington' sign and the simple act of crossing town lines gives them a sense of freedom. They don't stop until they've reached an old movie theater in the center of town, and once they've climbed out of the car, they walk side-by-side with elbows knocking. It's in these rare moments, away from home, that they feel infinite and whole. So they smile when they talk and Axel is even brave enough to pay for both their tickets.

They watch some cheesy horror film and make fun of the plotline in hushed whispers. It's in the safety of a dark theater, that they hold hands and lean into each other. At some point, Axel even drapes his arm around Roxas' shoulders and in their small bubble of solitude, in a different town and in a dark movie theater, they feel like any other adolescent couple. No fear or stigma attached.

When the movie is finally over, they're still cracking jokes as they walk back into the lobby to toss out trash when their conversation is interrupted, "Roxas?"

At the voice, Roxas snaps his head to the right where he spots a petite blonde girl exiting a movie theater with two friends in tow. The girl's blond hair is French-braided and tossed over one shoulder. Her blue eyes reflect his like a mirror, but they're wider, "Namine? I-I thought you were spending the night at Kairi's?"Roxas eases out, subconsciously stepping away from Axel and crossing his arms over his chest.

"She is." Kairi interjects, but with an edge to it that Roxas is unaccustomed to, "I'm a little surprised to see you two together, though." Kairi raises a brow, pursing her lips together in a thin line. Roxas is certain that Axel and him have always been careful at school and around town, but the recent and increasing hostility of Kairi makes Roxas suspicious.

"Yeah, I thought—" Namine starts, gesturing between the two because she knows that her brother isn't supposed to be hanging around Axel. She makes a face then, eyebrows knitting together, but she doesn't call him out on it. Her eyes flicker between the two boys and she wonders if the rumors she's heard about Axel are true, "We should go home." Namine states a little too quickly, tossing her cup of soda into the nearby trash can, "Kairi, can you drive us home?"

"I can drive Roxas home." Axel's voice comes out surprisingly small, the lack of confidence or animated exuberance births a cold numbness in the pit of Roxas' stomach.

"It's alright, Axel. I'll see you at school on Monday, right?"Roxas smiles and he's not sure out of the four of them which one he's trying to reassure the most. They exchange their good-byes, brief and awkward before Roxas is trudging alongside Namine.

From the passenger seat of Kairi's car, Namine chides him, "Mom and dad forbade you from hanging out with Axel for a reason, Roxas. Don't you hear what people say about him?" She turns in her seat, blue-eyes igniting each time they pass beneath street-lights.

Roxas swallows hard and blinks back tears until he's thankful for the darkness, "What do they say about him?" His words sound disconnected as he looks out the window, watching the world blur together into an undifferentiated mass of monochromatic tones. He's heard the murmured rumors undoubtedly birthed from an uncreative mind.

"That he's a _queer_." She whispers it, as if the word 'queer' has the ability to initiate Armageddon itself, and for Roxas, maybe it does, "You don't want people thinking you're a queer, too, do you?" It's not so much a question as it is a silent threat.

Roxas turns to look at his sister now and he thinks about how they used to be so close. How he could tell her everything, even about the time he was twelve and accidentally backed their parents car up into a mailbox. Which, together, they lied about through their teeth.

The answer to her question is on his his tongue, but it never comes out.

* * *

 **DRAWING INFINITY**

"I was surprised when you called me."

At the voice Roxas looks up from his cell-phone, spotting his cousin. He's taller than her remembers, happier too, he realizes. His skin is sun-kissed and he smiles brightly, deep-sea eyes bright with an emotion that Roxas can't quite read.

"Sora?" Roxas smiles, watching as his older cousin slides into the booth and sits across from him, "I didn—I'm glad you made it." Roxas confesses slowly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. There's so many things Roxas wants to say, but instead he idly observes the wedding-ring on Sora's finger, a plain gold band, "Did you and—"He pauses, furrowing his brows together in thought, "— _Riku_ get married?"

Roxas was young when the 'Sora Incident' happened, but he remembers. There was a lot of yelling, a family meeting, and even some church members were involved. His parents called it an intervention and there'd been talk about conversion therapy, something Roxas still didn't fully comprehend, but sounded terrifying even as a child.

All of this hostility made worse by the fact that all of it was directed at Sora, a cousin who had taught Roxas how to play baseball and let him win at video games. In the same way Roxas had been close to Namine, he was close to Sora, too. Then one day Sora was gone and everyone acted as if Sora had never existed to begin with.

"We did." Sora confirms, spreading his fingers to admire his ring with a touch of fondness, but when he sees Roxas fiddling with his purity ring out of anxiety, "But something tells me you didn't set up this meeting to ask me about my marriage. So, what is it? Did my parents set this up?"

Roxas can't help but flinch at the agitation in Sora's voice, "No, that's—" Roxas looks at his hands and furrows his brows again, trying to formulate his thoughts into words, "—I'm—I think—" Roxas swallows hard and leans back in his seat, eyes raising to meet Sora's, "I'm _gay_." His voice is quite, cracking around his words because it's the first time he's ever tried to put a label to it outside of his private thoughts.

Sora leans back in his chair now, he laughs. It's not an attempt to mock him, it's gentle. And maybe it's because Roxas reflects his own muddled youth. Sora reaches out and takes his hand,"It's okay, Roxas." And it's simple, but it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Sora squeezes his hand out of comfort, hard and real.

And Roxas' realizes that the emotion in Sora's eyes is synonymous with freedom.


End file.
